


I am speaking of dread and hunger

by lover_of_blue_roses



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Actual Violence, Blood Drinking, Historial setting, M/M, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Supernatural Elements, Threats of Violence, Vampires, brian is a bad vampire but a good person, except for brian, halloqueen 2019 dtfrogertaylor, vampires that have murdered people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-16 01:17:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21262727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lover_of_blue_roses/pseuds/lover_of_blue_roses
Summary: Brian is a failure as a vampire but his sire, Freddie, has carefully lured a mortal for him to drink from. But what tempts Brian about the beautiful man is not just his blood but his courage and determination.





	1. I won’t bite/simply whet my appetite

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IchiFujimiya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IchiFujimiya/gifts).

Despite a few spattered flickering lamp posts it was dark, the new moon having been only a few days ago. It was so very late that nearly everyone was abed and they were unlikely to be interrupted. Freddie waited and watched from the rafters as a young man approached their position.

He gave the signal and the quiet of the night was filled with the sounds a woman's distress. Mary was excellent at her task of appearing distraught. Her cries were only loud enough to catch his attention. It worked and Freddie watched as the man fell into their lure. He could only hope this time Brian didn't fail, again.

Freddie had sired Brian, mostly because the man was attractive, especially once Freddie convinced him to grow his hair out and to stop coating it with slick. But Brian had turned out to be a poor vampire.

Useless, unable to stalk or hunt his own prey. He was timid, shy and weak. So Freddie had decided that he'd intentionally starve Brian to get his bloodlust up in the hopes to make a predator out of him yet. Freddie could feel from here that Brian was trembling and uncertain as he waited in the shadows. He was a shame and disgrace to Freddie's proud name. Hopefully once Mary had spilled some fresh blood, Brian would behave as was expected of him.

The young man came near and Freddie saw that despite his round face and soft look, he was truly a grown man. He was beautiful with long, blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He also had a rather innocent face which could cause Brian to waver. Hopefully that would be mitigated by the terrible scowl on the mortal's face, any woman would be lucky to have such a fearsome protector.

When he had walked deep enough into the dark alley, Mary threw herself at him, scraping him with her nails hard enough to draw blood. As Mary wasn't a vampire but rather a banshee she wasn't tempted by the blood herself.

Freddie could feel the freshly spilt blood, warm and hot, pulse from its source. The man tried to comfort Mary when Brian struck him from behind. Freddie was thrilled to see Brian's looming form pounce on the smaller man and press him against the wall. The mortal's feeble strength was nothing compare to a vampire's. Freddie would have easily been able to pin him with one hand but Brian struggled to contain the furious human. The more he thrashed, the harder and faster his heart pounded, sending out more of that delightful perfume. From that close there was little doubt that Brian could hear the thumping of that organ.

\--

Roger had been doing a favor to Ratty by casing a joint. He had already gone in the day for the basics but had returned late at night for that was when the robbery was planned. Ratty had decided he wanted to rob a factory but was concerned about being seen lurking there especially at night. Roger had no intentions in carrying out the heist himself and so could go and get an alibi from a pretty lady friend or even a gambling parlour should suspicion fall on him. In exchange for his services Ratty would give him a cut of the money. And then well there was nothing stopping Roger from reporting Ratty to the police.

Roger didn't have anything in particular against Ratty. Ratty was a loyal person and decent enough worker but Roger wasn't sure he could always trust him to be on his side. It just really depended on how nice the payout was going to be.

Roger hadn't been afraid to be out so late as he'd done it before and could take care of himself but it was rather dark this night. And then he'd heard the sound of a woman. She was screaming and struggling. Instantly his blood was rushing. There was no hesitation in his heart as he ran towards her, only a craven would not defend and help those in need. It could be dangerous, Roger didn't know how many men could be present, he could be outnumbered. Yet this was an industrial area, if he didn't act, no one else would hear her. His pulse was pounding in his ears but he was clear of mind as the rest of the world seemed to fade away. He walked quickly toward the noise, her distressed call not letting up.

They had been clever and wicked enough to bring her out of the light of the lamp posts and down a dark alley away where the shadows were long. The poor woman was so frightened that as she fell out of a doorway, she lunged at him before cowaring.

Roger had foolishly turned his back to comfort her when a fiend pounced on him. His breath rattled in his chest as a fearsome foe peered down at him. He could only hope the woman escaped to safety during their tussle. The fiend was a quarter foot taller than Roger and extremely strong despite his wiry looking built. Through the dark he could only see desperate bloodshot eyes. Roger fought with all his force but the man was unmovable. He grabbed one of Roger's wrist in each hand and pinned them to either side of his body. Roger was truly and hopelessly trapped. He was only be lucky the villain didn't have a knife or Roger would have already lost.

Yet strangely the man didn't rain down blows or break Roger's body nor did accompliaces appear from the shadows, instead the man nuzzled at Roger's blonde hair. He normally wore it tied back at his nape under a worksmen's hat. However this evening as he wanted to help throw the police off his trail, he had forgone his hat and let it loose around his shoulders as to perhaps be mistaken from a far as a woman.

It became clear that the man was not trying to get at his hair but rather the crook of his shoulder and neck as he pushed Roger's hair aside with his long, distinct nose. Roger could feel his pulse jumping under his skin. Sharp teeth grazed his skin and Roger could feel the terror racing within him. Never had he been more afraid in all his life. He had hoped to do a good deed, to help out a poor soul, and instead had become another victim to this demon.

The mouth clamped down and teeth sunk deep into his flesh.

\--  
Brian hadn't thought he'd be able to do it. He had been a terrible disappointment to Freddie and he knew it. He heard about how others whispered and gossiped about the taint on the Mercury line. He knew he was failing and yet he couldn't bring himself to do it. The terror in those people's eyes, the way they reeked of fear as he drank from them.

But Freddie, who had truly grown to care for him, had refused to just give up and destroy Brian's now undead body. Instead Freddie had led him to the countryside, where he was left unfed as to be all the more ravenous for a hunt.

Maybe that was what was different. Despite the city being deserted at this late hour, Brian could feel his fangs throb and the saliva pool in his mouth. The thirst also made his eyes dry, tunneling his vision as his long claw like nails dug into his flesh.

That wasn't really it though. That man, with his beautiful fair face, had been so brave. Mary had tempted a few passing souls and most hurried faster on their way. This man had bravely came charging down the alley, determination on his face. He had furiously fought Brian despite being wholly outmatched. It hadn't been until the very end, until Brian had scraped him with his teeth, that the disgusting smell of fear had flooded his odor.

-  
Freddie realized what was going to happen as the sour odor of fear reached his nose. The sweet taste that Brian was reveling in would turn distasteful if not in his mouth, to his principles. Truly the worst vampire ever to have stalked the city.

Freddie sighed as he tipped himself out of the rafters to land on the ground behind Brian, who had slowed his drinking. Brian had closed his eyes as to best savour his meal, fluttered them open when he heard his sire. Freddie, with his vampiric vision, could see that Brian's eyes had mostly regained their red color.

Brian detached his mouth from Roger's neck, "Would you like some?"

The man was still conscious as he sluggishly tried to get away.

Freddie dragged a dark nail through the hot blood that had pulsed out of the bite mark. He licked his finger, this human was especially tasty. "I'm tempted my dear but you haven't had enough."

Brian was wavering, Freddie could tell, as he made no move to drink more. He must still be thirsty, truly there was no other newly turned that had such restraint.

"Please," The man whimpered and Freddie was concerned Brian would be unable to continue. It would be easier if the man had raged and spit in Brian's face. "Please don't hurt her."

Freddie threw his hands up in the air, why did he even bother. "Unbelievable," He muttered. What a complete waste of his time. He might as well just save himself the time and push Brian into a pyre right now.

That's when there was a clang from the rubbish.

\--  
Deaky, as he had come to be known, had been having a very good day. The full moon was a time of mindlessness and of being out of control. So then did the new moon have him with all his power and strength but with his mind and control. He had gored himself on the discarded meat of the city. There were those of his kind that thought to work for their prey was better but truly Deaky could imagine no greater pleasure than a full belly that required no strain.

Being so well fed Deaky hadn't sought to return to his den but had hidden himself in the heart of the city to sleep his appetite a new. He had been awoken from his deep slumber by the sound of a screaming woman and a poor vampire capturing prey.

It was clear that the vampire was unskilled at subduing his meal. And then rather than a swift death for the mortal, the vampire wavered and hesitated, forcing the now terrified mortal to suffer on. Another vampire, one that smelled far far older, appeared, probably his sire. Hopefully this would be ended so that Deaky could return to his dear sleep.

Rather than the ruthlessness that Deaky knew of the undead, something else happened, something odd. Deaky was very confused and curious enough to wriggle himself out of his hiding place to see what was happening.

The old vampire made as though to defend himself. He has black hair, sharp cheekbones and their kinds' signature red eyes. He is also garbed finely, as though he is to be presented before the Queen. Deaky would make for a formidable foe and yet a vampire that old is undoubtedly to have mastered powerful magics. The younger vampire, who must have been a young man when turned with voluminous hair, only has eyes for the pleading mortal.

Deaky's lupine form easily shifts into that of a man's this far from the full moon. Once on two feet, Deaky straightens his lapels and dons his hat, to make it clear he isn't here for a fight. His golden eyes and non-retracting claws still give him away as a werewolf from this close up. "Are you going to make a kept donor?" He asks casually, like one might enquire about the weather.

Rather than balk at the suggestion, rear up in rejection, the sharply dress vampire looks considerate. Vampires tend to be entrenched in their old world ideas. But not this one. How unusual.

\--  
Roger's mind had left him with his life's blood. His head was fogged and it all appeared far away. He didn't understand why the demon had stopped attacking him, especially now that he was so weakened. There was now another one, whom Roger would fear would prey upon him next, and yet from the creatures own lips spoke of not wanting Roger.

Not Roger but- All Roger would think of was the young woman's screams that hadn't stopped echoing in his mind. She had had the same blonde hair as his baby sister. That could have been her. "Please," he tried to beg. While the other dark-haired demon looks rather annoyed by his words, the taller one, the one that attacked him, does look concernedly into his eyes. "Please don't hurt her."

He must lose time because the next time he manages to get his eyes to focus, he sees a third stranger. They are talking, he can hear their voices, but they sound so very far away, and their words are lost in that distance.

All of a sudden there is a tight pressure at his neck. It hurts so much. Roger thinks he is screaming. Is he being choked? Will this be how he dies? His poor family, they will be devastated when they find out. If they find out- Maybe these demons will consume his body, cannibalize his flesh.

His head starts to clear and he realise that there is only pressure one-side, over his wound. Close to his face is the dark-haired demon calling him. Roger had thought the other had bloodshot eyes but yet he sees from this close that around his iris, where humans would have white, there is the red of blood. "What-" He tries to cough but he feels like he's choking.

The pressure around his neck lightness ever so slightly and Roger breathes in greedly, finally able to fully fill his lungs. His head spins, if he was not still pinned to the wall, he would surely tumble. "Can you hear me now?"

Roger nods swallowing. "Y-Yes."

"You wish for us to spare the woman, I will offer you a deal."

"A deal?" Roger fails to understand.

"A magically-binding contract," Freddie tries to clarify.

"No, yes, for what?" What would stop them from killing Roger if he didn't agree. Killing Roger and killing her too.

"If you consent to give Brian blood whenever he should ask it of you, with the understanding that he will never drain you til death."

"I- I will live on?"

"You will, although you will no longer be able to live your mortal life. You must leave this place and its people."

"And she will live?"

The demon approached somehow even closer. Roger imagined that he could feel the death on his breath but rather the demon is tastefully perfumed. "One must be careful with words and magic. We will not hurt her nor kill her, but she will not live forever and this I cannot promise."

Roger's blood is roaring through his mind. How can he even consider this? To forsake his soul to a demon? And yet what choice is there? The alternative is death of himself and another, an innocent. "I- Yes. Then yes. For you not to harm her, I agree."

"Extend your hand," commands the demon.

\---

Brian is unaware what a kept donor is, but Freddie clearly knows. This is something serious and of consequence, Brian can feel it. The air feels thicker as though these were ceremonial words that had been spoken and now they are swirling about waiting for the magic that will give them their strength. Brian had known his sire long enough to see the wicked twinkle that glimmers in his dark eyes. Nor has he met a werewolf before, although they were described enough that he recognizes them. A smell of fur and dog, strong and overpowering, despite his current human form.

Freddie looks at Brian, his brow lowered and expression fixed and serious. "I have long known how you feel about killing humans. I have tried to make it easier for you, such as tonight, but it is clear that you are incapable of doing this."

Brian lowers his eyes. This is all true. He has endlessly failed his sire. Is that what is to happen then? Is his life be to replaced somehow by this human, that he might fail his sire no longer and instead someone better might take his place?

A hand pushes his chin up. He allows his head to be tilted up, he looks into Freddie's dark eyes surrounded by red. Perhaps he is being treated with respect enough that Freddie will look at him in his final moments. Brian thinks the vampire's fondness for him has been real enough and he will remember Brian as a more than what he sired. Perhaps he will remember him as what Brian truly thinks they were, friends.

"So now I will offer you an alternative, although it will be difficult on you. A daily and continuous struggle and yet, I would see you flourish still." Brian doesn't dare breathe at these words. "If I make this man your kept donor, he will be contractually bound to give you blood whenever you need it. The nature of this contract, in order to get him to agree, is that I will bind you that you must never drain him til death. Should you fail, should your bloodlust over take you, there will be nothing that can be done to save you. No one, not even I, will be able to save you then."

Brian feels the idea inside of him like champagne, the joy helplessly bubbling out. "Really?!" In his excitement he grabs for Freddie, which would have dropped the nearly unconscious human if not for the werewolf's swift movement.

Freddie bows his head politely to the shifter from where he is wrapped up in Brian's embrace. "Thank you."  
He turns to face Brian, no less seriously. "I see you agree with this proposal but I must warn you-"

"But sir, I have excellent control!" Brian commits a faux paux that he instantly recognizes, cringing at his own behavior. Interrupting his sire in front of another and calling him sir. While Brian clings to his human upbringing that sir denotes respect, amongst the undead and the unnatural it denotes distance and unfamiliarity.

This was not a good example of another kind of self-control evident by Freddie slowly raising a single brow. Rather than rebuke him, his sire continues as though uninterrupted, "Should you choose this path, I warn you, that there will be a great many that look down upon you."

Brian is well aware of the common thought among vampires that they are the superior race and humans are nothing more than cattle, and prey, beneath them in every way. But Brian has never thought himself superior to his fellow man even now that he has acquired superior strength and longevity. Brian looks at Roger, a young man with his whole life still ahead of him. As difficult as this decision feels to be made, Brian feels as though agreeing will condemn this man to a life he doesn't want, he knows that to refuse would merely condemn this man to die.

He looks at Freddie who is waiting patiently with an expectant smile on his face, he already knows what Brian is going to say, it's not like he truly has another choice. "They have always looked down on me and thus it is no burden to disappoint them one more time. I would rather stay true to myself and who I am than to constantly fail you and tarnish your name and lineage. To make you starve me and still not be able to-"

Brian has more to say, he is feeling vulnerable, as though he ought best pour out his heart before binding another to himself; and yet he sees the werewolf look at him with such interest. It is true that he is a weak vampire, that cares for humans and all of the innocent or defenseless, and yet he would not have all his vulnerabilities displayed for this other person.

Freddie follows his line of sight and must think his concern upon the human for he takes the blonde man into his hold and clamps tightly over the bitemark. Freddie questions the man but it's clear he is too drained from blood-lost to answer. Instead Freddie casually starts up a line of conversation with the werewolf -call me Deaky- as though he wasn't holding a half-dead man in the center of the city where anyone could stumble upon them. Humans are weaker and no threat to a vampire but a whole mob of them- There is a reason they do not leave bloodless bodies in the streets for them to find.

It doesn't take very long for the mortal to stir, reacting to the conversation around him or perhaps Freddie's red eyes. "What-" He's weak and gasping for air, while Freddie had kept his life's blood in his body, he has choked him of his needed air.

Freddie adjusts his grip and the man breathes in desperately. His eyes are unable to focus and he looks unsteady where he stands. "Can you hear me now?" Freddie tries again.

"Y-yes," He tries to nod.

"You wish for us to spare the woman, I will offer you a deal," Brian is not surprised at Freddie's duplicitous nature. Freddie has always been very convincing and it is in great part due to his silver tongue that he has become head and founder of the Mercury line.

What Brian is curious in is either the mortal would be that selfless. He seems to be the sort, chivalrous, courageous, a true gentlemen. And yet there is no greater test of one's resolve, one's morals, then facing the end of one's mortal life, even if death is not what awaits him.

"A deal?" They are so dazzled and confused, Brian wonders if they can even consent in any meaningful way.

"A magically-binding contract."

"No, yes, for what?"

"If you consent to give Brian blood whenever he should ask it of you, with the understanding that he will never drain you til death."

"I- I will live on?"

"You will, although you will no longer be able to live your mortal life. You must leave this place and its people."

The man's eyes try to focus, it is clear something is occupying his mind. "And she will live?" It is clear that the man is trying to make his voice have steel, to sound firm in his convictions but he mostly sounds faint from blood loss. Brian suspects more than ever that he will agree, to which in preparation Brian removes his jacket and rolls up his sleeves.

Freddie crowds the man against the wall. Freddie isn't tall but Brian imagines that to be intimidating, Freddie is powerful and carefully controlled in the way he presents himself to say nothing of his clear vampire nature. "One must be careful with words and magic. We will not hurt her nor kill her, but she will not live forever and this I cannot promise." Freddie leans in closer still and Brian wonders if Freddie isn't going to threaten the man's life more directly to force him to comply.

Brian fears what he might be forced to do if an unwilling were forced to be his slave. While it is Brian's wish to treat this man as an equal as permitting, if the man proves himself to have a will that can not bend Brian will have no choice. And if forced to shackle such a passionate soul Brian might rather grant him the gift of mercy. It would not be the first time Brian has killed, his vampire nature has seen to that, but it would weigh no less heavy on his heart.

Yet Freddie makes no move to harm the man, rather just crowding him, perhaps in the hopes to imitate or better still to tempt. Brian is aware of Freddie's aura. He is relatively attractive, with a sharp jawline and sharper cheekbones, but it is more than that. How Freddie chooses to present himself with the finest of clothes and the confidence, it is as though Freddie is reigning royalty over all in the room. And this very fair mortal, for how could Brian have failed to notice, might when isolated seek the comforting company of a vampire.

They stay in that statement for a moment more, Freddie pressed closely to the man until Brian can see the man's resolve form in his eyes. Whatever doubts caused him to quaver are gone and all that remains is his intentions. His body might be weak, but his mind and soul are strong and present. He can see the defender nature of this man like a knight of old. And more impressive than armour or sword is his conviction. "I- Yes. Then yes. For you not to harm her, I agree."

Brian can hear the smile in Freddie's voice, "Extend your hand."

The moral does as asked of him and Brian sees his hand shaking. Brian is unsure if it is fear or blood loss that causes this and would not be surprise to know it was both. Deaky has extended his arm like a firm bar across the man's middle so that he might try and stand without falling to the ground. Brian mirrors the gesture, gently slipping his fingers up the man's sleeves to grab his forearm. The man returns the gesture.

Brian can feel the magic in the air, swirling around them and agitating his hair as well as the man before him, who's hair is uncharacteristic of men, down and free.

"Speak your name."

"Roger Meddows Taylor." Finally a name for the brave man.

"Roger Meddows Taylor do you so swear to be forevermore bound by magic as the willing blood giver to whom you have clasped hands with."

"I do so swear," Brian can feel tendrils bind around his forearm, this magic will bind them so that none can put them asunder.

"And do you Brian Harold May, second of the Mercury line, swear to be bound by magic as the acceptor of the willing blood giver with whom you have clasped hands with, on the conditional that you never take as much as his life's blood."

"I do so swear," Roger looks very uneasy at Brian's words. Possibly caused by the mirroring sensation of magic binding them together which must feel foreign to a natural man. First Roger tries to let go, to free himself of the partly complete binding but the magic holds him firm. Then Brian can feel his hand squeeze tightly where it grips him. His eyes are blown wide and he looks as pale as the snow. Brian just hopes he doesn't faint or vomit.

"Then as the officiator, I will stipulate additionally that I decree neither myself, Frederick Mercury, first of his line, and Brian Harold May, will not hurt this night nor any night following, kill Mary Janet Austin."

Instantly Roger's tight hold relaxes. Ah, so it was this that troubled him so. That he gave his vow willingly and feared the conditions had not been met, that he was selling away his soul with nothing in return.

"As it has been sworn, so mote it be." Freddie said raising his hands.

The magic corporealized as ribbons that were whipped around the couple in their bond. They sways until one by one ribbons wrapped around each other their wrists. They faded, returning into the nothing they had come from except for one. Brian can feel it warm, pulsing, snuggly wrapped around his wrist. He losely lets go and tugs at the red ribbon. He can feel Roger's essence through it and it is clear that Roger can feel it too.

"It's been a long night for Roger, perhaps it's best you settle him to sleep so that he might recover?" Freddie offers casually.

Brian extends his arms and as soon as Deaky stops holding him, Roger is powerless to stop from falling into his hold.Roger has the delicious aroma of the living and of fresh blood and yet Brian has never been less tempted. Brian understands his new responsibility. "I'll take care of him."

"Of that I have no doubt," Freddie says with a soft smile as he watches them go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this should be two chapters.


	2. What’s that smell? Is it fever?

Roger didn't remember closing his eyes but he must have for now he awoke in a darkened chamber. His mind is still fuzzy and much of the night remains a blur. His first sensation is of being warm and comfortable. His shoes had been removed as had his outer layers and he was tucked in a bed. It was the most comfortable bed he had even been in with a soft mattress and thick heavy downy blankets. 

Roger doesn't remember all of it. He remembers clasping hands with that tall demon. He had lacked the warmth of a living human and yet he hadn't be unpleasantly cold, just ambient. He had been so faint from blood loss that one of them had had to hold him up, he wonders why they hadn't just let him fall and done it on the ground. 

The offiator had spoken in a loud, clear voice although it was hard for Roger to always focus on the words. He had instead be struck by the eyes of the one he was now bond to, Brian Harold May. A name Roger found very mortal. And he had looked at Roger with soft hazel eyes for all that they were surrounded by red, the red of his own blood. Blood that he had promised to give forever.

He was the being that now held Roger's life in his hands. He could have feasted on Roger til there wasn't enough of a person left to plead for mercy. But instead Brian had been... merciful in how he preyed upon Roger.

Roger had resigned himself to the fact that he was losing his soul and his freedom but he had still known fear when the woman had yet to be mentioned and he sworn his vow. He was powerless to let go, to back out, and even if he did, even if he could, what recourse was there for him but to be slaughter where he was barely managing to stand. 

But the officiator, Frederick of Mercury, a vampire undead creature demon, had been as good as his word.

Roger could be content in this at least, even if he was never to see his baby sister again, he knew he had acted like a proper gentlemen and been able to save that woman's life. He could rest easy, which was apparently what he was doing. 

He slowly moves in the bed. He felt weaken, still slightly faint but not as strongly as it was last night. He feels like he can stand, albeit slowly. The room is very dark, only smothered ambers in the hearth providing feeble light that struggles against the threatening shadows. 

Roger's eyes have adjusted and he can faintly see the silhouette of a pitcher and cup on the nightstand. He carefully sits up, freeing himself of the blankets, to be meet by sharp cold. "Ah!" He can't help but to gasp as he curls his toes back under the blanket and cocoons himself in the duvet, extending out only his hand for the cup. The room is chilled as is common of stone buildings and yet Roger feels all the more sensitive to it, perhaps from his lack of dress or the blood loss he can not be sure.

The cup is already ladened and Roger eagerly takes a drink for his parched throat. The liquid is not cider or even water but something entirely different, he doesn't know what it is but it tastes delightful. It is chilled like the room and sweet on his tongue. He drinks slowly, careful not to make himself sick, especially if he is on an empty stomach. He wonders for how long he has slept. He empties two full cups before deciding that is enough for now.

He stands slowly, mindful of his lightheadedness, taking the blanket with him. Despite his woolen socks, he can feel the cold of hardwood floor seep into his bones. He walks with care around the room. Is this to be his new room? Surely it wouldn't make sense for him to live in a dungeon where he could grown frail and ill if what this Brian wants from him is his blood.

Roger tentatively places a hand over the wound, the bite, on his neck. His hand meets the thick gauze of a bandage. He feels very little pain when he applies pressure, although he careful not to hurt himself, it mostly feels numb now. That's good. At least it is better than the alternative of being in terrible pain. 

Although it is dim and hard to see in chamber, Roger is surprised when it appears that the windows have been boarded up behind the curtains. He had been hoping to see when it was, night or day, and perhap where he was. But then again he now bound to is a vampire, which he understands that demon to be, is harmed by the sunlight. 

While Roger's soul blazes with his passion, his longing to be free, he must be wary and cautious should he fight against his master. If he should try and attack, only to fail, his master could rightfully have him throw in a dungeon. Or worse. What would stop a being, without a soul, an undead, from going after his family or friends even though they be all innocent. If the Holy Church can state that the law calls for the torture of criminals, how much worse might a vampire treat him?

And at what aim would Roger attack? Because he hates the shackles that could chaff him when the alternative had been his and a innocent woman's death? Is the death of his master perhaps the only way for Roger to be free of his bonds? Or would it just spell his own death? 

And yet there is so much he does not know. If he were to be freed by his master's death, which is uncertain as perhaps this bond will force Roger to follow his master even through the veil, what would stop Frederick from claiming him or even striking him dead should he be the reason for Brian's death. Also, did Roger not give his word? Is he to be cowardly and without honor that his word would mean nothing? That demon promised to protect that woman and was as good as his word. Would Roger be more craven than a demon?

Roger has made his way around the room and now stands before the door. He hesitates with his hand on the handle. It is true that Brian has sworn not the harm him but this need not extend to others that might be lurking. He has meet two seemingly mannered demons but who knows what lets might be in this place. Devils and witches? He fingers the odd silver ribbon around wrist. Yet something comes concerningly to mind and he opens the door, no longer hesitant.

\--  
Brian was pacing in a circle, worrying at what he was trying to prepare, when he felt it. It hasn't been that long that he was mortal but he didn't know how to cook even then. Roger's pull on their bond is clear, he must be examining it's physical manifestation, seamless ribbons afixed to each of their wrists. 

Brian quickly moves from the kitchen, through the empty manor to the bedroom he had left Roger to recover it. Roger is standing in the dark corridor, looking very determined, and rather pale. Brian is unsure if this is solely the blood loss or also possibly also from the cold. This manor has been abandoned, making it a perfect nearby retreat, but this also means it is cold. Brian, as a vampire, can barely feel it and it certainly doesn't bother him and his undead body but it must be bothering Roger, who is wearing his bedding. 

"There was a third one of you last night? Wasn't there? Someone holding me up?" Roger yells out his questions intensely. 

"Deaky?" Brian is brought up by these questions, what an odd concern to be pressing. Deaky, their new werewolf acquaintance that Freddie had seem most taken with. But what could it be about Deaky had most alarmed Roger?

"In the vow, Frederick promised that neither you nor him would hurt the woman, but there was this third person, this Deaky." He's raging his fist 'threatingly' as he grows aggiated and his face becomes flush. It's probably not healthy in his current condition. 

"Ah," Brian understand, carefully grabbing at Roger to calm him, from where he is working himself into a near panic. Now how to best go about solving this problem. If this man was to learn that his cause, what he bound himself for was pyrite, he might despair to such an extend that Brian could never help him. And yet if he lies, Roger is sure to find out eventually as she is dear friends with Freddie. 

It may be difficult but Brian truly believes the best path forward is honestly. "Mary, the woman you saw that night, was never in any danger from us. She is a banshee and a friend of Freddie's. She was there to lure people to where we wanted them, somewhere more private, for me-" Brian doesn't think know is the best time to explain his failure as a vampire to hunt people like prey. 

"To-" Roger doesn't too fundamentally shaken by this revelation. He looks still angry rather than devastated. That expression is almost completely masked but for the fire in his eyes, as the rest of him seems merely like he is trying to grasp how this new piece of information fits with his understand of his world, "To lure me, someone, into being your..." Roger doesn't give himself a title, instead rather mindlessly running his finger under the ribbon. 

Would he be more angry to learn he was lured to be killed or to believe it was for servitude? He has decided that honestly is the best policy so he continues in that vein. Brian sighs as he guides Roger back to his room. Is this information truly what Roger wants? "Freddie was- It was to lure someone to their death. That is how vampires typically feed." 

He carefully uses the word 'vampire' to see Roger's reaction. Surely Roger was already aware that only a wicked nature, and thus a wicked creature, would attack at night in such a manner. And indeed rather than completely horror Roger seems quiet content by having this detail. "But I- I find it very difficult to take a life. The offer, this bond know between us, is very unconventional, especially for a vampire so newly made as me. It wasn't our plan when you were lured there." 

Roger mulls over these facts. Brian lights the lanterns and adds logs to the fire that has now since died out. He'd like for Roger to join him downstair for his meal, Roger's meal, but he understands that trust must be built slowly and that perhaps Roger would rather stay in privacy and relative security. 

"What- what made you change your mind?" Roger asks as he pours himself another cup. Brian is happy to see that he didn't drink it all before leaving, as surely that much all at once would have made him sick and yet Brian would have felt terrible if he treated his 'guest' so poorly as to not leave out enough for his needs. 

"You," Brian answers honestly. "Our live is... It can be very difficult, impossible, for some to accept. They would much rather death than do have anything to do with us."

Roger can't help but to grimace and scoff at this. "Death is rather final. I would rather endure almost anything rather than death."

Brian can't help but to agree. When Freddie has first turned him Brian considered killing himself, a common occurrence amongst newly turned vampires, but he, even he with his strong moral stance on killing that made this lifestyle so difficult, found this new life preferable to no life at all.

"I could tell you were a passionate soul, you have so much still in you. I- I would feel terrible for your death."

"Me too," Roger jokes, his eyes twinkling in the flicking light.

Brian couldn't help but to laughed. 

\--

Roger didn't know what he expected from being bound to a vampire but surely it was not this. Brian was kind, considerate, joyful person, no different from any natural man. He didn't treat Roger like a prisoner or someone beneath him, in fact he treated Roger with dignity and respect, answering clearly his questions even if those angers were infuriating. 

At least now he knows that he didn't save that woman, not truly. But he would rather find out here, in the privacy of this room, than to find out in public when he'd see her again. If he saw her again, without know, on the arm of that other vampire, he surely wouldn't have made a fool of himself.

Roger only has one more cup, carefully not to over extend himself. His body has quickly grown faint and weak, he is still not recovered from being injured in this way. He makes his way before the fire that Brian was good enough to feed. There is a plush ottoman carpet before it and Roger settles himself down upon it. He finds it hard to keep warm, what heat the blankets don't keep being leached out of his body. 

This levity was good for his soul and it is nice to know that Brian's frank opinions aline with his. There is only one more question pending "Thank you for your honesty and for the drink and room," Manners are always a good place to start his mama would say. "If she'd been real, if this Ms. Mary hadn't been bait, if it'd been some mortal soul, someone you were really preying on, would you have let them go free in exchange for me?"

Brian braces himself with his hands behind his back. In this case the whole truth might best be left unsaid as merely a partial truth would rather placate Roger. The shadows seem to grow longer and darker despite the newly feed fire. However should Brian choose to behave such, he fears he is creating a pattern for their future interactions and he would have them have as near to equal relationship. Which would not be served if he treated Roger like a child. 

"I would wish to be honest with you, that this is what you would value over falsehoods although I fear it will weigh heavy on you."

Roger huddles under the duvet at what he misunderstand to be a negative answer. "If you are not honest with me, how can I know how to act going forward. I would rather not be blind to my current circumstances."

"Mmm, wise," Brian can not help but to be in agreement. He himself had much rather preferred when Freddie had been honest about the consequences of Brian's continual unbecoming vampiric behavior. "Then I tell you truthfully that I was very moved by your impassioned plea and I would have done everything in my power to grant you this final wish. Freddie is old, even for a vampire and very powerful. He has command over many magics and could make a natural person forget all that might have happened to them."

He pauses and makes to look out the windows. They have been sealed shut with stones that were then boarded over to prevent squatters and looters while the bank figures out how best to deal the property. "That being said, Freddie is my sire. He turned me into a vampire and I owe him my allegiance and obedience. While I would wish to grant you what you desire, should he wish otherwise, it would not be my place nor in my power to prevent what he willed."

Roger thinks on this quietly. Brian hopes he has made the right decision in this, he is always one to doubt himself and his own actions, worrying on everything and anything. Brian can not get emotions from their bond although Freddie tells him it might start to happen with time and a deepening of their relationship. For the moment Brian could only get glimpse when he press the ribbon between his fingers and then only of the most basic of feelings such as pain. 

Roger bows his head, "Thank you for your honesty. I hope you understand this is much to take in."

Brian nods even though Roger is facing the fire and can't see, "I do and if there is anything I can do to help you adjust, if it is in my power, I would be happy to oblige."

Roger turns around but before he can even speak, his stomach growls. Again they find themselves with smiles on their lips and laughter in their breathe despite the previous seriousness of the subjects at hand.


	3. Chapter 3

Freddie is not surprised to find Brian and the man, Roger, smiling and laughing like old friends rather than fear that should live between prey and predator. Freddie does not regret choosing this solution for Brian but he does worry of what is to become of them. If Brian fails to genuinely grow to care and love this human he might all to easily accidently kill them, yet if he does grow to care Brian could well care too much and too deeply, for his kindness is never ending and his heart is vast like the oceans. Then Roger would could fall victim to any that would wish to harm Brian.

Roger is fierce, of that that Freddie has no doubt. He dared to look a vampire in the eyes, to ask questions, to make demands of them. And now he sits from the being that would have drained him of his life's blood like he is a new acquaintance made at a pub rather than cower in fear. But all of Roger's bravery and fieriousity will do him no good against the might and magic of the supernatural.

Unless Freddie can somehow find a way to protect him... But Freddie has no idea of how to do such a thing. He barely knew of kept donors despite all his years. Perhaps he can kind something amongst his tomes or perhaps even Deaky. Deaky is an odd fellow and Freddie doesn't think he had ever made a faster friendship. 

Deaky is knowledgeable, confident, opinionated and willing to defy standards placed on him. He should have joined the pack of the alpha that sired him. Even if he didn't he should have joined a pack. It is said that without a pack, the wolf comes completely feral unable to control himself. It is often said that feral wolves are so bloodthirsty that they can rip apart and kill an entire village without realizing the need to eat and starve to death.

Deaky however has been able to ground himself without a pack. He seemed to have excellent control, undaunted in the face of anything. Yet despite this serious, unwavering mask, he was shy and giggly underneath. He hadn't found control by burying all the humanity and personality that made him him. Instead he had found a way to exert control as merely an aspect of himself. To such an extent that while he must be kept away from humanity during the full moon for their protection, every other night he is capable and conscious. And on the week straddling the new moon, such as last night, he can even don his wolf's skin like one might a coat. 

And he was unafraid when he woke to find himself so near two vampire. He recognized Freddie's powers and age and had still proposed that near profanity suggestion. As Brian had found his delight in the unflinching man, so did Freddie suspect to have found so in Deaky. 

\--

Roger doesn't notice at first when Brian's sire comes into the kitchen. He was enjoying the hearty stew that Brian had lovingly made. Brian claims to be a poor cook but this is leagues better than anything Roger could make, not that that is really saying much. 

The vampire is quiet for a moment before he clears his throat to get their attention. He looks content as he watches them. "Hi Freddie, how are you?" Brian always speaks of his sire casually, and indeed greets him so. He doesn't bow or use a title even though it seems like it could be appropriate, Freddie is dressed like he could belongs in the court of Versaille.

"I am very well. And how is yours? Roger was it?"

Roger tenses at being called 'yours' like he belongs to Brian. Such possessive language is reserved for slaves and wifes. The latter of which is really what Roger first thinks of even though Freddie must mean the former. The idea of being accused of being a... Let's just say that Roger has a reasonable fear of such preference being apply to him as it was not the first time mostly for his delicate face. They beat up men in town for holding hands, sometimes so badly they die from their injures; let alone anything else. 

"Yes this is Roger," Brian cuts a look at Roger who must have been suppose to answer rather than to leave that awkward pause. 

"I am recovering well, thank you for asking. My-" he instantly places his hand over the bite mark, remember what it felt like to have Brian's head buried in the crook of his neck, "Wound does not pain me. And although I easily grow fatigued and faint, I believe I am improving."

"Well already better than last night," Brian offers. "It was slow going but Roger was able to walk all the way down here from the west wing with very little help."

"That's lovely to hear and with Brian providing you with fluids, you could be feeling completely recuperated in no time," the vampire sounds genuine in his regard. Not the hellish creature Roger might rather imagine, that has no care or concern for mortal life or suffering.

"May I sit?" Freddie address Roger.

There is no need to ask Brian his sired and friend but still it is odd that his opinion is considered. Roger just nods as he drags his bowl of stew closer. While he is only bound to Brian, it could well be possible that as his sired, this vampire will have a right to drink is blood to. Roger nearly subconsciously places a hand over the bitemark.

"Does it truly not pain you? I am the one that healed you and if needed, I can try and help. It was my first time doing such a procedure."

Roger shakes his head. There is no pain, what he feels is just the shadows of its memory. He had been so afraid, powerless and helpless when bitten. His thrashing had been useless in the face of such strength and then his body had frozen in terror. He was sure that was to be his last moments of life, slaughtered in a dirty alley far from all those that loved him but that was not what happened. Instead he had meet Brian and their lives had become permanently bound together. He didn't know yet exactly what that would entail but he had faith and hope that it would be good.

**Author's Note:**

> I've never done the POV like this so you'll have to let me know.


End file.
